How mother in Copenhagen Quietly Started a Global Food Revolution
It starts with the dough. Always.
When you step into mother, the beloved sourdough pizza place tucked into Copenhagen’s lively Kødbyen district, you’re stepping into something bigger than just another trendy eatery. You’re stepping into a philosophy—one that’s fermented, stretched, and baked into every crust they serve.
“I think we were the second place in the world to do sourdough pizza in a commercial way,” says the founder, sitting in the back of the restaurant, sleeves rolled up, his hands still dusted with flour. “Not just chefs doing the odd sourdough pop-up at a food fair, but a full-on pizzeria concept built around it. And back then, people thought we were crazy.”
That was fifteen years ago. Now, mother is a Copenhagen institution, its tables filled with locals, tourists, foodies, and families alike. But it wasn’t always a guaranteed success.
“It was a struggle at first,” he admits. “Back then, sourdough was mostly associated with bread nerds or San Francisco. Pizza was fast food. Cheap. Disposable. But I knew people would taste the difference.”
He picks up a lump of dough from the prep counter and holds it up to the light. It’s alive—bubbling, airy, delicate. “We’ve used the same mother starter since day one. We feed it every day. It’s alive. We treat it like a living being.”
And why go through all the trouble?
“Because it’s worth it,” he says simply. “Sourdough is more digestible. You feel light after eating. It tastes better. It ferments slowly, so it’s more nutritious. But it’s also a pain in the ass,” he laughs. “Every day is different. Humidity changes. The flour changes. You have to really know it.”
And it’s not just the dough that’s different. From day one, mother has insisted on making as much as possible in-house. Mozzarella? Made from scratch using organic Danish milk. Wine? Their own label. Beer? Brewed in partnership, tailored for the flavor of the pizza.
“We do things the hard way,” he says with a grin. “But that’s why people keep coming.”
Still, the founder is quick to brush off any attempts to paint him as a food purist. “We’re not fancy. We’re not trying to impress. We serve hundreds of pizzas a day. We want people to feel welcome. That’s the Italian way. Even if we’re adding truffles or fermenting mushrooms, it’s still pizza.”
He pauses. “I get annoyed when food gets too precious. You know—where the waiter stands next to you and tells a five-minute story about who picked the tomato. Come on, it’s dinner. Not a TED Talk.”
And yet, mother has been part of something bigger than dinner. In the past decade, Copenhagen has emerged as a global food capital, and not just because of Noma. Something’s shifted in the culture.
“There’s been this amazing merge between the culinary world and creative industries—fashion, art, design,” he says. “In Copenhagen, chefs are part of that. It’s not like in other cities where food is seen as separate. Here, food is a way of life. You follow the chef, like you’d follow a designer or a musician.”
He gives credit to the city itself. “Copenhagen was clever. They made the right decisions. They invested in quality. They built things without ego. It’s part of why the world is watching Denmark now. The culture around food here is unmatched.”
It’s a far cry from his early chef days in London. “Oh man, London in the ‘90s?” he groans. “It was brutal. Twelve, fifteen-hour days. Screaming kitchens. Chefs were replaceable. There was no respect. Here? It’s a totally different vibe. People care. Chefs have status. We have lives.”
Has it changed him?
“Definitely. I’m not angry anymore,” he laughs. “We built this place to be different. We pay people well. We don’t do late nights. People have kids, lives, dreams. Why kill yourself over food?”
After 15 years, some would think he’d be ready to slow down. But mother is expanding. A second location is coming soon, just across town.
“I never thought we’d do another one,” he shrugs. “But then this place came up—beautiful location, all glass, facing a square. We said, ‘Why not?’”
Will it be the same?
“Yes and no. We’ll stick to the roots—sourdough, real ingredients, no nonsense—but we’ll keep pushing. We’re experimenting with more vegan dishes, different fermentation methods. We even cracked dough without gluten, finally. Took me a decade,” he says with a proud smirk.
One recent innovation he’s excited about? A new plant-based pizza using MATR, a fermented root protein grown with mushroom spores.
“I’ve always hated fake cheese or meat,” he says. “Even if it’s organic—it’s still fake. But MATR? It’s its own thing. Not an imitation. Something new. That excites me.”
So what does the future hold for mother?
He thinks for a moment. “We might do more. Maybe even abroad. But we’ll do it slowly. No chains. No factories. Every place needs its own soul.”
And what about the name?
“Oh, that’s the heart of it,” he smiles. “mother is the starter. mother is care. mother is where you come back to. There’s only one Mother. Even if one day, there are more.”